


flowers for your beauty

by dannyikigay



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Intimacy, M/M, Trans Allen Walker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 18:20:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19835920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dannyikigay/pseuds/dannyikigay
Summary: Love is what matters.





	flowers for your beauty

"When did you discover you weren’t a girl?"  
  
Tyki, in the morning sunlight, looked magnificently unkempt. His eyes carried the drowsiness of the previous night, a smile that expressed satisfaction as he ran his hand across Allen’s hip, voice like melted butter to Allen’s aching soul. The question came unexpected but discreet, proving curiosity and interest. Allen snuggled into Tyki’s arms, eyelashes trembling delicately against his caramel skin as he pressed his face against the man’s large, warm chest.  
  
"I’ve always known, in some way," Allen’s intonation was slow and quiet, because it was the first time he could talk that openly to another person. Tyki listened, cat-like eyes sharp and attentive, solely focused on Allen, lips twisted in an enamoured smile. "When Mana wanted me to wear cute skirts, I felt really uncomfortable. He never insisted, though. He said I could choose what to wear, because he thought I’d be adorable anyway," at that, Allen felt his face heat up, just slightly. Mana’s smile was a vivid memory, imprinted on his conscience.  
  
"He wasn’t wrong," Tyki chuckled, combing his fingers through Allen’s long, white locks. "You’re, in fact, extremely adorable."  
  
"I’m not," Allen pouted, too flustered to throw a glower in his direction. He closed his eyes, letting his cheek rest where Tyki’s heartbeat thumped at a calm pace. The white-haired exorcist let out a sigh, a barely audible sound that relieved his weariness just temporarily.  
  
"I’m listening," Tyki whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of Allen’s head.  
  
"I was 'Allen' to him. Nothing else. I was a boy, and he never argued about that," Allen went on, a fond, nostalgic smile colouring his tone. "I don’t have a problem with wearing feminine clothes. I didn’t dislike the skirts Mana wanted me to wear. It’s just that...maybe I didn’t want to feel _pretty,_ I think. I didn’t want to get someone’s attention."  
  
With reassurance, Allen realised that Tyki was keeping quiet, listening. When was the last time he spoke so freely? Tyki could be dumb and persistent, nearly _annoying_ , but he...listened. He seemed genuinely intrigued in what Allen had to say, in the stories he had to unfold. Every time they met at an ordinary inn (with Lavi’s help, actually) they had new things to discuss about, new poker games to challenge each other at. Sometimes they didn’t say a word, Allen with his head on Tyki’s shoulder, Tyki smoking a cigarette, watching the sky through the tarnished glass of a creaking wooden window. They were exhausted, conflicted, and shamelessly in love.  
  
Letting Tyki’s fingers run through his hair, Allen relaxed, driven into a daze. "You accepted me," he said quietly, almost disbelieving of such experience. Moved, really. "Without asking anything," he continued, low, assessing again the proof of Tyki’s genuine attraction, the certainty of Tyki’s frankness.  
  
"Why wouldn’t I, boy?" Tyki questioned, cupping Allen’s face. He stroked Allen’s cheekbone with his thumb, lifting Allen’s head. When Allen opened up his eyes, he met Tyki’s golden gaze. "I don’t care about what you have in your pants. If you identify as a boy, I’m nobody to tell you you’re mistaken, or misled," he explained, dark irises drowning into Allen’s silver pools, words soft, careful, quick. "Nor the Order, for that matter." He brushed Allen’s fringe away from his face, his gentle touch appeasing Allen with sweet sensuality. "Don’t let anybody tell you who you should be."  
  
Allen swallowed, trying to breathe around the lump in his throat. When Tyki kissed his forehead, his shoulders dropped, abandoning the previous tension. "I know," he claimed, sliding his hand up Tyki’s nape to lace his fingers through his curls, "I know what I am and I won’t back down," he stared into Tyki’s eyes, as though he was testing, voicing words merely meant to encourage himself. Tyki watched him, enraptured, lips slightly parted. "I’m an exorcist, I’m a boy, and this is what I want to be."  
  
Tyki’s lips, passionate and wet, kissed Allen’s brow. "This is what makes you a man," he murmured, deep and smooth and _pleasurable_ , placing his hand at the back of Allen’s head. "I’ve seen you fight like the most courageous man," he smiled, charming and confident, making Allen want to smile with him. "You’re strong, stubborn. Perhaps _too_ stubborn sometimes," he grinned, an endearing gesture that had Allen roll his eyes, "but looking feminine doesn't make you a woman. You could wear stilettos and lingerie, but you wouldn’t ever be a girl to me," his voice dropped an octave, no sign of flattery in his words, only fraught with what Allen perceived as _familiarity_.  
  
His chest ached, warmth pooling in his abdomen, around his heart. His nose brushed Tyki’s while he peered into the man's intense stare. "Do you promise, Tyki?"  
  
"I promise," Tyki replied simply, because there was nothing else that could convince Allen of his honesty more than the way he looked at him.  
  
Allen worried at his lower lip, swiftly burrowing his face into the crook of Tyki’s neck. Tyki was naked, _he_ was naked, and he smelled like sunlight and cigarettes, poignant and manly and _comforting_. Of course, because it was Tyki, and Tyki’s first peculiarity was the way he teased, the man let out a laugh, amused and quiet, while gently ruffling through Allen’s already messy hair.  
  
"What’s this, boy? You’re so cuddly this morning," he purred, taking Allen’s face into his hands. A sulk twisted Allen’s lips as he groaned fastidiously at having his face squished into Tyki’s fingers. It made him want to _cry_ , because it took too long for him to realise how much Tyki had _longed_ to have Allen close out of spontaneous amicability.  
  
"I’m just tired!" Allen replied loudly, turning around and away from Tyki, while the bastard kept laughing like a smug idiot because he knew exactly how touch-starved Allen was, and _how_ he needed to be able to _talk_ without hiding himself behind a polite mask.  
  
"Don’t get me wrong, boy. I’m feeling _very_ privileged right now," Tyki responded, pressing his body against Allen’s, slinging his arms around him in a safe embrace, one that reminded him too vividly of the night they had spent together, with Tyki fucking into him from behind, slowly, holding him like that, with his gorgeous lips on Allen’s neck and his hot breath ghosting across his nape.  
  
"Don’t be," Allen retorted dryly. He heard Tyki laugh again, a sound that faded slowly, patiently. A second later, he felt his lips on his shoulder, planting a tender kiss, almost apologetic. Allen turned into his arms, facing him and his perfect smile, _sensing_ the joy Tyki was radiating.  
  
"Now, now, we should get up," the man said, caressing Allen’s hair. "Let me cut this for you," he pointed his finger toward Allen’s locks, now too long for the young exorcist to be comfortable. He’d wanted to cut it a long time ago, but too many situations got in his way, depriving him of a break. They had barely a hour left, but it would be enough for Tyki to take care of him, wouldn’t it? Honestly, Allen couldn't explain why he trusted Tyki to handle it. Perhaps it was because Tyki touched his hair so affectionately, that he had no reason to fear he’d ruin it.  
  
Allen got up, walking towards the mirror that stood in front of the bed. He was reminded of his own nakedness, observing the reflection of his pitiful scars, the paleness of his thighs and the softness between his legs. With a sigh, he bent down to pick up his boxers, discarded on the floor, pulling them up his thighs. Looking in the mirror, he could see Tyki fumbling through the drawers with a concentrated look, searching attentively until he finally found a pair of scissors and a small comb.  
  
He stood behind Allen, running his fingers through his strands. He was tall, strong, protective, and there was something particularly reassuring in the way he caressed Allen’s head. He took Allen’s hair into his hand, looking into his eyes through the mirror. Carefully. At the first snap of the scissors, some colourless locks fell on the floor like delicate snowflakes. He ran the comb through his hair, touch gentle and mindful, as if analysing the length. One by one, Allen’s strands shortened, exposing his pale face, baring the imprint of his scar. Silent sighs slipped past Allen’s lips at the touch of Tyki’s elegant fingers through his hair, ache, dizziness dwelling into his heart at the relaxation, worries forgotten.  
  
A deep-seated restlessness was visible into Allen’s eyes, in the way he held his hands together and kept still, pliant, struggling against the urge to let his eyelashes flutter shut, and slowly drift off to a desired sleep. Tyki’s hands were wondrously _tender_. They were large, his palm slightly rough, containing the proof of Tyki's bad vice.  
  
But he couldn’t sleep. He had to _watch_ , like it was a ritual he couldn’t miss. Tyki, behind him, cut precisely, with an accuracy that Allen didn’t think he should have expected from his personality. He leaned into Tyki’s touch, aching to be caressed. He trailed his own fingers across his jaw, eyeing himself, tilting his face to the side to admire the way his newly cut hair framed his cheeks.  
  
With his short hair and his bangs on his forehead, Allen acquired a new boyish beauty. In the mirror, Tyki smiled contently. He didn’t cut much, really. Allen concluded that he looked the same, just lighter and fresher, as his hair wasn’t long enough to tickle his shoulders anymore. After placing the pair of scissors on the bedside table, Tyki slung his arms around Allen, resting his chin on the top of the boy’s head in natural playfulness. "You look so pretty," he murmured, tilting his head to kiss Allen’s scarred cheek. "Did I do a good job?"  
  
"Yes. Surprisingly," Allen joked, showing off a smug grin. He glanced over his shoulder, brushing Tyki’s face, lips dangerously close.  
  
"Why do you have to be so rude all the time, boy?" Tyki asked, faking offence in the rhetorical question. Of course, there was nothing that could truly offend him. He was a light-hearted man, whose philosophy was to avoid taking life too seriously.  
  
"I’m not rude," Allen said, affronting him with a sly grin. "I’m just being honest."  
  
"Honest," Tyki repeated, the taunting tone coming off as his usual mockery. In fact, "but still _rude_ ," he insisted, making Allen turn around to face him. He pressed his grin against Allen’s, chuckling quietly in between tiny, stupid smooches.  
  
"Think what you want," Allen replied sassily.  
  
"What I think is that you’re too bossy," Tyki teased him with a smirk, encircling Allen’s waist with his arm, sweet kisses tickling Allen’s cheek at each word. “But that’s what made me fall for you," he smiled, and this time it wasn’t _mockery_ , it definitely wasn’t, because his loving words hit Allen’s soul like thunder on a spring day.  
  
Allen blinked a few times, unable to speak, as if words had been strangled in his throat. Not that he’d say much, really. As soon as he felt his face burn, he attacked Tyki with a violent kiss, as though that would be enough to stop him from saying things that could surely make Allen _sob._  
  
Tyki’s breathless laugh vanished into Allen’s mouth, snarky reply smothered by his kiss. Cupping Tyki’s hands with his own, Allen tasted his mouth, because the only thing that could convince him of the _reality_ of his own happiness was the way Tyki kissed him.  
  
His lower lip trembled, regardless of Allen’s attempt to appear unfazed. "I should go," he murmured on Tyki’s lips, and let his head lean against his chest as to fool the inevitability of their separation.  
  
Apparently, the awareness of having tasks to accomplish didn’t overtake the fact that they were messy, still half-naked, lost in an embrace they didn’t seem to want to break. It was contradictory, because how _could_ he escape the reassurance Tyki offered?  
  
Tyki knew. He listened. Terribly slow, he pulled away. Allen stood on the tip of his toes to kiss him goodbye. His lips barely brushed Tyki’s, reluctant. He landed on his feet, diverting his gaze in another direction and away from Tyki’s eyes. Because he _knew_ , that if he looked at him he wouldn’t have resisted the urge to be slammed against the wall and get fucked senselessly, only to feel him more. And there was something _heartbreaking_ in the way Tyki sighed when Allen looked away. But Tyki wasn’t hesitant as he tucked his fingers under Allen’s chin, claiming his lips in a hurried kiss.  
  
It was impossible to say no to him, when he murmured a plea Allen agreed with but was too scared to express, "Just a few more minutes."

It would suffice, wouldn’t it? It wouldn’t do any harm. Except that, probably, Allen would wish to prolong time further than requested.

Allen sat at the edge of the bed, tiredness weighing heavy before his eyelids. Taking a deep breath, he distanced all the oppressive thoughts in an attempt to paint his mind blank. But his dysphoria was a beast that ate him alive, flourishing through his pain. Demons kept haunting him, mellifluous voices persuading him that he didn’t matter, after all.

Allen frowned. He mattered. To his friends, to Cross, to Tyki. Tyki, who could’ve forced him to give up, who could’ve dragged Allen along without caring for his will. He could’ve destroyed him. He had so many chances, so many times left to waste.

Not even happiness and gratitude could muffle the noise in his head. Like he usually did, he forced his eyes open, stricken by reality.

Tyki kneeled before him, naked. He picked Allen’s shirt from the floor, handing it over. Allen slid it over his shoulders, but didn’t bother buttoning it afterwards. It was Tyki, who patiently and easily hooked each button into its hole, one by one, almost too slow.

Next came his black trousers, swiftly pulled up. He zipped them close, hand too close to Allen’s intimacy. A smile on Tyki’s lips. Looking down, he took Allen’s foot into his hands, like he always did. Tenderly, because he said it was the sweetest way one could explicit the love they had for somebody else. He kissed Allen’s big toe, looking up at him through thick, black eyelashes. Allen couldn’t take his eyes off him. Couldn’t believe he was loved, and that Tyki’s initial crush hadn’t been just a whim, not just the thrill of something new.

The man guided Allen’s feet into his socks, then into his boots, tangling the thin laces.

When there was nothing else to do, Allen caressed his cheek, like Tyki did when he found salvation from his Noah into Allen’s arms.

"Thank you," Allen whispered, and this time he didn’t force himself to smile.

He didn’t need to, if he didn’t want to.

Tyki would understand.

**Author's Note:**

> honestly? this is self-indulgent. i wrote this during a very bad week, when all i needed was some peace. one night at 3 am so looool yeah allen is a character who needs a break too, lol...and you all know that i love them and i love the way tyki loves him lol. they're pure in their own ways. and tyki is allen's n1 cheerleader so yeah. have this. of course, getting feedback is great and dearly appreciated <3


End file.
